Take The Long Way Home
by DiagonGirl
Summary: Maggie takes an impulsive trip to London when she finds her fiance with her sister. Blah, blah, she lands in Middle Earth to save the day. Not a Mary Sue. Okay, yeah, kinda Mary Sue. But if you're here, you must not have anything better to do, so why not read?
1. Chapter 1

Hey there, hello! So this is an attempt to write and actually finish a story. Any story, but I picked the Hobbit because it's the last movie I saw, and I'm inspired. So there's that. I've written- er, started- other fanfics but that was maybe ten years ago, and I haven't had time or desire since to write again. But now I'm getting older and I want to start writing original fiction, so this is kinda like an exercise. Feel free to critique! I don't have a Beta or anything so any mistakes, feel free to point them out. If the characters feel flat, let me know. I think the first part might be a little dull, but it's just setting the scene. Let me know what you think! But I promise you, I will finish this story! I've already written the first few chapters. And yes, it's kinda like a Mary Sue, but I hope it's not ridiculously bad...

I do not own LOTR nor am I making any profit from this work. Though wouldn't it be nice if I did? *hard look at Cassandra Clare and E.L. James*

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><p>Winston Marciel Weatherington the Third. With such a name as that, it's no surprise that his name is a synonym with Douchebag Asshole Twat, the Third.<p>

This Douchebag Asshole Twat is my ex-boyfriend. Thank god for that Ex- part. I could have been Mrs. Douchebag Asshole Twat, the Third. But luckily for me, I get to stay Margaret Ann Hunter because three days after he proposed, I came home to find him boning my sister.

My married sister, mother of 4 young children, wife to a wonderful man who worships her. Not so perfect now, are you, Cass?

Prior to this incident, we were happy. At least, I was happy. Winston came from a well to-do family and well, he was loaded. Not that it was a factor to me dating him, I wasn't a gold digger or anything. I didn't need his money. I also came from a well to-do family.

Winston was extremely handsome. He had great hair, all honey blonde and wavy. His crystal clear blue eyes that just begged of the Caribbean in the summertime. He hit the gym about 4 times a week and had a great body to prove it. And a _fantastic_ ass.

We had lots in common. Both of our fathers worked together as judges so I knew Winston most of my life, or at least had heard of him. He had been sent to a male boarding school in Toronto for most of his school years. We really met during law school. I was tutoring him in some classes, and we just had great chemistry.

He always had issues with my tutoring him. I think he felt threatened by me even though I didn't think it was a big deal that I made better grades than he did. It's not like I was a straight A student, but I didn't do horribly. And neither did he, when he applied himself.

When I figured out that I didn't actually want to follow in my dad's and sister's footsteps of becoming lawyers then judges, he was quick to encourage me to drop out of school. Which I did, and still don't regret, because I honestly couldn't picture myself in a courtroom every day and enjoying it. My passion just didn't lie in the justice or law fields.

However, convincing my parents that I didn't flunk out of college was oddly difficult. Despite being on the dean's list many times since I started college at age 18, they were under the impression I was stupid. Needless to say, we don't have a great relationship. In fact, since I was the "accident" child, born 12 years after my sister, I was pretty much left to my own devices growing up.

My sister, Cassandra, was the golden child of the family. Smart and gorgeous, she was the apple of my father's eye from day one. The day that she took over my dad's practice when he was appointed judge was the proudest day of his life. I was happy for Winston when Cassandra gave him an internship at the family practice. Just wasn't aware that I couldn't trust my own blood not to cheat on her husband with my fiancé. Her husband, John, is a stay at home dad. Their kids are little heathens so I don't envy his job. Grace and Maddie are 4 year old twins with a 3 year old little brother Darren and an 11 month old sister, Charlotte.

Thanksgiving had been a month after I dropped out. I hadn't really done anything in that time, except finishing moving my stuff into Winston's apartment. He had asked me to move in and I was happy to have a place besides my parent's house to live. My mother, a housewife, was ecstatic beyond measure for some reason when Winston proposed.

He had just toasted me and family and had dropped down to one knee next to me. I was so surprised, so thrilled! I just bet if I rewound time to replay that scene, I would see the glances and smirks between Cass and Winston.

It boils my blood thinking about it. If I believed in Voodoo, they had little dolls full of pins.

"Finally!" My mother had cried out. "There's the future housewife!"

"I'm not going to be a housewife." I frowned, my happiness waning at her weird comment. "I just don't know what I want to do with my life yet. Just who I want by my side." I stared up with a corny grin on my face.

Mother frowned. "Don't you just want to have babies and settle down? I thought that's why you dropped out?" She looked pointedly to my flat midsection.

"What! Mother, no! I'm not pregnant! Where did you get that idea from?" What the hell? I wasn't ready for kids yet! "No, I just don't want to practice law."

"Maggie, dear." Cass interrupted, after sipping her glass of red wine. "Perhaps Mother's idea is worth considering. Clearly, you are well suited to housewifery. Isn't that basically what you are doing now?"

I glared at her. "Not exactly." I gritted out. "Enough. I just got engaged, can we not concentrate on that?"

"Quite right, Mags." Winston piped in, as he slung an arm around my shoulder and tucked me against his side. "Soon enough you'll be _my_ little house wifey!"

He kissed my hair as I scowled. I must have just missed the look that he and Cass surely shared.

My father of course was no help. Not even a word from him as he sat eating his turkey and thumbing through whatever on his smartphone.

But none of that matters anymore. Not my ambivalent parents, my conniving sister, or douchebag ex. Screw them all!

I couldn't do the Christmas season with all of that. I cannot face my sister and her smug face, nor can I face my parents who had such hopes for my marriage to Winston as if marriage to him would secure my future. As if this was the Victorian age, and women had no rights.

Ugh.

And this is why I am on a plane to England. I had arranged a surprise trip for Winston and me for when he graduated in May, but screw that now. I changed the reservations to today, just three days after the "incident." My parents were not happy, but who cares. I'm an adult, all decisions are mine to make.

I'm on a plane to England for a three week trip. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when I get there, but at least I'm far away from that mess. When I get back, I'll put my life back together. Figure out what makes me happy, and what I'm willing to do for the rest of my life. I'm only 26, I have time. And I'm a pretty smart cookie, so I'm sure something will come up. But I'll think about all that after my impulsive vacation, and not a day before.

I tucked the little airplane blanket to my chest. We would be landing soon, which is great because not only am I excited to be in London, but damn this is a long freaking flight. On which, I just couldn't sleep a wink.

I sighed. I didn't want to think about Winston and Cass anymore. If I did, I'd just start crying.

That was the odd thing. I hadn't cried yet. Maybe it hadn't processed, or maybe I'm just that mature (doubtful), or maybe I'm just blocking all the emotions that come with being betrayed. When or if I do start crying over my failed relationship, I don't think I'll ever stop.

The old lady next to me shot me a look as we were instructed to return our tray tables and seats to the upright positions. She must have heard me sighing.

"Going home, dearie?" She said in a lilting accent.

"No, actually. On vacation- er, holiday." I said and gave her a smile. I'd put her in her 70s, a plump grandmother type in a long sleeved, woolen sweater dress that hung down to the floor. It looked like she had wrapped a blanket around her and had it tailored to her. She looked very cozy. Her long white hair was pinned in a bun at the back of her head, but she had some long wisps that hung about her face.

I folded my blanket as she continued asking questions.

"Why all the sighs then? Do you not like London?" She asked, folding her own blanket.

"Oh, no. That's not it at all, actually. I'm very excited to be in London, I just thought I'd be in better company when I went, not just by myself." I winced as the words left my mouth. I'd seen Taken, I knew better than to tell strangers I was alone. Even kindly, old grannies.

"Indeed! A lass shouldn't be alone, especially not for Christmas! If you're staying that long?"

I nodded.

"Well," she said. "At least, it is good for young people to go out and travel the world. Goodness, how many people never see outside their hometown!"

"Yes, I know." I agreed. "My parents are like that. Thy tried pretty hard to convince to just save my money and not take this trip. But I've always wanted to go, and well, I'm not getting any younger."

"That's the spirit! Will be staying in just England or making your way to the Continent?" She pried.

"Ah. I haven't thought much about it. I'd love to go to Paris or maybe Prague. I haven't decided much of anything yet." I said. I really hadn't. I could do anything I wanted for these three weeks with nothing to lose and no one to account to anymore.

The jet engines were really whining now. We must be very close to landing.

"Well, I wish you the best of luck and love in your journeys, dear." She said. "In fact…" She trailed off. She looked at me with intense, judging eyes. She must have seen something she liked because she smiled grandly. "Yes. Yes, indeed. My apologies, my dear, my apologies! You've been asking all this time we've been jabbering. My, my!"

She dug out her bag from the seat in front and started rooting around in it, still muttering to herself as I looked on in slight alarm.

Um, what? I thought. She's a bonkers old lady.

She finally found what she was looking for and stashed her bag back right as the wheels touched the ground, jostling everyone around. It was a rather smooth landing actually. Not too shabby, there.

"How silly of me! I'll give you what you're asking, dear. An adventure, indeed." She said as she pressed something into the palm of my hand.

The plane finally slowed and was taxing to gate.

"What was I asking for?" I said distractedly. I looked at the silver foil packet she had given me.

"It's just what your shirt says." She said, matter-of-factly.

"My shirt?" I looked down. I had picked up a couple new things for the trip and this shirt was one of them. It said in big bold letters against a sunset background: Take the Long Way Home.

"You need an adventure, and I'm giving it to you. Go on then, don't be rude, lass."

"Oh. Ok." I said. "I can't accept this, I've only just met you." I tried to give it back to her, but she wouldn't take it.

"Nonsense! It's nothing dastardly, child!" She said. I hadn't been thinking that, but it would be my luck that she was unloading drugs on me to get caught going through customs with. That would be just peachy. "I simply do not think a pretty girl like you should travel alone, especially not when your heart is broken."

"I'm not heartbroken!" I exclaimed. I was, of course, and really bitter about it, but how could she have known?

"Are you not? Well, then, there is some reason you've looked so glum and sighing all over the place. I'd guess just broken up with boyfriend."

I frowned. "Fiancé, technically, but it's for the best. We would have never worked long term, anyway."

"Really? It sounds that it is for the best as you say. Go on now, open it. Don't be rude."

The plane had reached the gate now, and the people around us were collecting their things, which is what I wanted to do, but the lady was dead set on my opening the gift here and now.

"Alright, then" I looked down at the lumpy silver package that fit into the palm of my hand, just a little envelope with a piece of tape enclosing the flap. I slid my thumb to break the tape and slid a necklace into my other hand.

A delicate silver chain with a little charm, a green leaf no bigger than the nail of my pinky fingernail. The chain was finely and intricately wrought silver, easily more expensive than the little leaf. Upon closer inspection, the leaf had dark green glittering jewels instead of inlaid paint.

"Oh, it's so pretty!" I breathed. "But this is too much, I'm sure I can't accept something so nice!" I was putting it around my neck, before I even registered I was doing it. Like my hands had a mind of their own. I simply couldn't help myself, I'd never been so rude!

"Nonsense! It's a gift! You cannot return it now!" She grinned. She bent down to pick up my book I had been reading during the 9 hour flight from Atlanta, and dropped sometime while I was trying to sleep. I guess it had slid to her side. "Such a great book. I knew you'd be a wonderful choice." She handed The Hobbit back to me with a wink of her twinkling eye.

Slowly people had been filing into the aisle gathering suitcases and duffle bags. I turned to grab my purse from under the seat in front of me and tuck the book in. When I looked back up, the granny was gone up the aisle and off the plane.

"Weird." I thought as I too got off the plane with all my belongings. I went through customs, watched with a bit of pride and a great deal of satisfaction when they stamped my passport, and trudged to baggage claim.

The thing about winter in London? It is damn cold! The airport was freezing, but I guess all airports are. I was running my hands up and down my arms while waiting for my bags to pop up on the carousel.

"It's worse outside, trust me." A deep male voice said behind me. I turned and discovered a tall, dark haired British man behind me, rubbing his hands together before sticking them under his arms.

I just stared.

"What?" He said. "It's the off season for a reason." He shrugged, looking slightly ridiculous in his black leather jacket and jeans, multicolored scarf wrapped around his neck, and his arms crossed his chest with his hands up under his armpits. He had leather boots on as well, and if he hadn't spoken with a British accent, I'd say he was American.

His face was beautiful, just straight chiseled perfection: High cheekbones with a 5 o'clock shadow. If this was how all British men looked, I was in big trouble, because I would never leave.

Unless of course, it got colder than it was now, because no way could my thin Southern blood could cope with more cold weather. And I hadn't even gone outside.

He was staring back at me now with a raised eyebrow. I shook my head out of its fog.

"You think I'm a tourist?" I asked.

He gave me a look. "Are you not? No, don't bother. I know you're a tourist." He gave me a dismissive nod.

I turned back around, just in time to spot my bright purple luggage mixed in with a sea of other bags flooding down the carousel.

"What's your name, lass?" He asked, as I was trying to grabbing my things. Trying was the keyword there. He reached in over me and jerked the larger case off for me.

"Um, thank you, I'm Maggie." I said. "What's yours?"

"Aaron. Aaron Shrider." He said. He shook my hand and then lifted the case handle for me before giving it back.

"Well, have a nice stay, Aaron, or welcome home if this is your final destination." I said hesitantly.

"Aye, this is home for me. But I don't think this is your final destination." He nodded at me.

I kind of smiled at him and then hightailed it out of there. The whole thing seemed awkward to me. I'm not really used to talking to strangers. One of the weird things about being Southern is people expect you to be friendly and I'm not saying I'm not, but I don't go out of my way to talk to strangers like that. I don't really have a southern accent either so maybe that's a reason why.

I felt the exhaustion creeping up as I exited the airport. So this is what jet lag feels like? Bright sunny outside, yet I feel like I'm missing my bed time. I breathed in the London air which disappointingly was a little gross with all the exhaust from the airport and the taxi line. As soon as I hailed a taxi, and we took off to my hotel, the real excitement began. One because I saw Big Ben out my window, and a lot of other cool sights like the London Eye and the Thames River, and two, because my driver drove like a mad man! Thank goodness for it though, or else I'm certain I would have been asleep.

All too soon I was at my hotel. A very cute building with a lattice front with ivy, and a cheery doorman that helped me with my bags. All the staff seemed to know what I was going through, I was definitely not the first guest with jet lag, so they were extremely helpful and even let me into my room before check in.

I was just going to drop off my bags and get something to eat, maybe explore a little bit, but when they said my room was available immediately, all those plans changed.

I took the tiny little elevator to my floor, put my key card in the door, dropped my bags, made sure the door was closed, and belly flopped on the bed. I tucked myself into the deliciously soft comforter and I was out within a minute.

As soon as my eyes closed it seemed like a moment before I opened them again, but this time into glaring white light.

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><p>So, heh heh... What do we think? Be kind, review! It only gets better from here!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Because I felt you might not like the first chapter, and since I think it's just a lot of back story, here is the next chapter where it's more plot centric. I really hope you like it! Oh also, I don't know much about the Valar so feel free to correct me. Again, posting this story for productive criticism and feedback.

I do not own Tolkien's works or am I profiting from this story.

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><p>"The hell?" I mumbled, still groggy. I put a hand over my eyes, but it didn't do much good. There was just too much light.<p>

"Hello, Maggie." A voice seemed to surround me, yet echo as if we were in a large warehouse.

I jumped at the voice, suddenly realizing I wasn't it bed anymore, not even in the hotel.

"I'm sorry, I don't make it a habit of talking to people I can't see!" I called out.

The voice chuckled. "This is my true form, but perhaps I can change into something less… bright."

The light dimmed then to show a comfortable study, complete with a lit fireplace, snapping and crackling happily in the corner. A sturdy desk in front of bookshelves, with a little tiffany lamp illuminated a desktop of messy papers and a typewriter. Behind the desk, sat in a big wing-backed leather chair sat a portly, but kindly looking old man.

I looked behind me. An open door and an empty hallway.

"Yes, m'dear. You can go back if you'd like. No one if forcing you to stay." He said, peering at me as he fixed up a pipe.

"Then I'm not… I'm not dreaming?" I asked, sliding down into another wing backed chair in front of the desk. Mahogany, I'd guess. I was dreaming. But it didn't feel like dreaming. Never in a dream had I ever known I was dreaming. So that meant I wasn't dreaming? But then where hell was I and what the hell happened?

"No, this is all quite real. You see you were chosen for an… opportunity to set wrongs to right." He said.

Although, I didn't feel like I was in any danger, I could certainly sense some bullshit going on. Vague answers always annoyed me.

"Uh huh. I'm sorry, but do you mean you want me to fix my wrongs, is that it? Or fix wrongs done to me? Maybe going back in time and never dating that scumbag?"

"Er, no." He said frowning. "Not quite all that."

He sighed and ran a hand down his face, as if I was being particularly obtuse, which I was, of course.

"Please, don't sugar your words. Just spit out your deal or send me back to my hotel." I crossed my arms over my chest. I guess I could have left, but I was too curious. It's going to be my downfall one day.

"Very well. Your skepticism is a key component to your nature. I suppose this shouldn't be surprising." He leaned forward. "Maggie. I am a member of the Valar. Are you familiar with that term?"

My eyebrows burrowed together. "Yes," I said slowly. "Weren't the Valar the first Elves? Or the creator of the Elves?"

"Almost, we are godlike creatures who created the world. But not your world." He paused. "It's complicated."

"Oh." What to say to that? "Are you saying Tolkien's works are real?"

"In a sense, yes. Quite real, and happening alongside your reality, in fact. In a sense, I am Tolkien as these are stories of my reality. In this reality, your reality, it is stories, movies. In that reality, they too, have stories and myths from this reality's culture and history. There are countless other realities." He explained.

"This sounds… made up to me." I shook my head. "But why am I here? You said to right wrongs?"

"Yes, some things have changed in the story. The darkness grows faster than is meant to happen. Subtly, things have changed for the worse and I fear if events continue to unfold as they seem to, that Middle Earth will see the Age of the Orc instead of the Age of Men. Soon, Middle Earth will simply be a wasteland of nothing and no one as Orcs kill everything and anything, even each other."

"Wow." I said. "That does sound serious. What could make that happen? And why should I care?" I didn't mean to sound so unsympathetic, but if things are happening in an alternate reality that was nothing to do with my reality, what does it matter to me?

"I do not know for certain. It's possible…" He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "But I'm afraid sharing my theories will only upset the balance more should you choose to undertake this challenge."

"But why would I? I mean, why would you pick me?" I asked, again.

He considered me for a moment, then steepled his fingers under his hefty chin.

"Like Bilbo Baggins was chosen for his journey, not because he wanted it or would be the best pick for the task, you were chosen for your need of an adventure as well as your steadfast, capable, and generous heart amongst other admirable qualities."

"You're going to send me back in time, or what would feel like back in time to me," I amended when he looked like he was going to interrupt. "Because_ I _need it?! Because I have a good heart?"

"Do you doubt your courage? Do you doubt your capabilities?"

"You bet I do! I'm on vacation in London, which I haven't even seen yet because I'm in a dream-like state talking with freaking JRR Tolkien himself, because he wants me to take a journey to Middle Earth for a year to go to Mordor with the Fellowship?!"

He winced. "Actually, that's not quite right. We haven't really discussed the particulars."

"What?"

"In particular, I'd like for you to go to the time during the Hobbit. I think it best if Thorin Oakenshield or one of his heirs to survive the Battle of Five Armies. The Oakenshields are good lads, and any one of them would do well to sit on the throne as King Under the Mountain."

"And that will fix the imbalance?" That wasn't too bad, just a few months I think. Damn, was I really considering this? Am I mad?

"It would be a start, I believe." He hedged. I frowned.

"Do I even come back from this journey?"

"It is as possible to return you as it is possible to send you there."

"I see. There are sixty years between the Hobbit and the Lord of The Rings."

"Approximately so, yes."

"And I'm human. That's a lifetime."

"Yes, in regards to that, I'd like to alter your species."

"You can do that?"

He gave me a reproachful look.

"But seriously, pride aside. Have you ever done it before?"

"Yes, of course."

"How many times?"

"Er, three."

"Three!? Is it dangerous? Does it hurt?"

"Well, not exactly dangerous. You have to welcome the change to your body. I've heard said that there is a bit of pain and discomfort involved. Essentially, I would adding a bit extra to every cell, rewriting your physical code. But your essence, what makes you, you will stay the same."

I snorted. "That's comforting. So pain, change species, live 60 plus years in another world without electricity, and lots deadly creatures, all to ensure that those marked for death don't die?"

"In a nutshell, yes."

"And then… what?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Do I just die there? Do I come back here and I'm 26 again with the memories of a centurion? In London?"

"You will come back here, in London at age 26, and with no memories if that is your wish."

"Hm. And I'd be half what? Half human, half dwarf?"

"Elf would be best I think."

I frowned again, but shrugged. Elves were beautiful, can't argue that. And immortal so there was that too. I was quiet for a few moments trying to let all this information sink in.

I loved Lord of the Rings, ever since I saw the first movie in middle school. I remember looking up at the big screen hoping throughout the movie that the "cute one" wouldn't die. That "cute one" was Legolas played by Orlando Bloom. It was the first time I'd heard of Tolkien and the Lord of The Rings books and I demanded them for Christmas. I spent all the rest of Christmas day and up until New Year's reading the books and then the Hobbit when I got my hands on it. I had started to read the Samarillion thinking that if the Hobbit was a prequel, surely that would be a sequel which I desperately wanted. But alas, it was the prequel to the prequel, and I never finished it. I did, however, sport quite a few Mrs. Bloom purses from Claire's to my sister's extreme distaste.

I'm kind of kicking myself about not reading the last book now. Maybe then I'd know more about this man sitting in front of me.

I started chewing on a fingernail. If this was all a dream, it was the most fantastical dream I've ever had. But if this really was real, then what?

Go to Middle Earth, grow old, and meet Elves, Dwarves, and all the people from the books? Those books are all about epic battles and a lot of people died. Am I prepared to go to war?

That last thought got me. What happens if I died before I fixed things? Or at all?

"You will end up back in your hotel room, none the wiser. I will not allow you to die, although you may get hurt. I can only step in if you are mortally and fatally wounded."

Well, that answers that.

"I have no battle skills. I'm not particularly active and I'm definitely in no shape for a battle." I said. Not quite true. Winston had made me go with him to gym at least 3 times a week, so I actually was in okay shape. But holding broadswords and killing things bigger than me, I don't think I can handle with my level of fitness.

The meme that says "On a count of zero to Mordor, how far did you walk today?" took on new profound meaning.

"Do not fret." He said. "I can add certain helpful attributes to your physical code." DNA I mind shouted at him. You're talking about DNA! He paused but continued. "I will add extra grace and strength as you will. I will not set you up for failure as they say in this world. It simply won't do to put in so much energy and effort for this endeavor for you to die at the hands of the very first Orc you meet." He smiled lightly. "I would not do this if I did not have absolute faith in your success."

Alright, well, that was actually comforting for once. But…

"But if I don't succeed?"

"I hope it will. I truly do, but perhaps if it does not…" He cleared his throat. "If it is a failure, then so be it. It is the will of fate. My hands will be tied. But you, dear girl, needn't worry. Like I said, I will keep my word and return you to your current life, memory-free."

That's true. If I succeed or fail, I won't remember. I couldn't tell if he was being blasé to calm my worries or if it really would just be fate. But fate itself was a funny thing. Was it fate for me to be here?

I feel like there's a key piece I'm not getting, but I couldn't figure out what it was I needed to ask.

"Child. I don't mean to rush your decision, however there will be some downtown while you get used to your new elven body. Durin's Day is the say you should aim to be at the Lonely Mountain. That way, if you are detained for whatever reason, it gives you a few days leeway before the battle. It would be easiest to place you there, but since there will be the change to consider, it would be best to place you near Lord Elrond. He is a master healer, after all, and he will guide you through the changes. Please make sure you ask for him when you arrive there if, of course, you decide to go." He said with his calm, placid smile.

I felt my teeth grind. Looks like my decision was made. But one last question.

"We haven't talked about payment for services rendered." I said. "This is a huge undertaking and I cannot do it for free. Besides, incentive is necessary for a job well done."

"Is not a free trip to Middle Earth, a place of myth and legend enough?"

I gave him a look. I didn't go to Law School for nothing. Or well, I suppose I did, since I didn't finish.

"Indeed, you bring up a fair point. For services rendered as you put it, what is your price?"

I thought about it. I would have no memories, so money would come out seemingly out of the blue. He was a Valar, a god of Middle Earth. Surely, he had to ask a favor of the Big Guy in my reality to get me to go there. Or maybe not, who knows? I wasn't about to open that can of worms. Should I ask to go back in time to not date Winston? That seemed silly, it already happened. But I am a silly girl so…

"I'd like to be introduced to my soul mate when I get back. The person who was made for me and I for him. If such a person exists, I want to meet him immediately when I get back."

True love was a good price. I felt very proud of myself.

He nodded, sagely. "Very wise choice, Maggie. I'll see it done. "

"Okay. I'm in. I'll go and I'll kill the bad guys and save the good guys to the best of my ability." I said, standing.

"That's the ticket!" he said standing as well. "Very good Maggie, very good indeed! Now, I recommend that after the Battle of Five Armies as The Hobbit ends that you lay low until the Lord of The Rings, unless you deem fit to step in, of course. Maybe in Rivendell, since you will be familiar there with Lord Elrond. Also, perhaps a trade might be wise? Are you naturally good at anything? Textiles, maybe? Woodwork? Blacksmith?"

I shook my head. "Er. No, none of that. I went to school to become a lawyer, but I didn't finish."

"Ah, no matter." He said. "Perhaps you should be a hunter then. Perhaps it is naturally in your bloodline a human. It would only be magnified as an elf."

"Sure." I shrugged. "I guess I could go be Katniss."

"No, no, that reality is much too bleak my dear."

"What?! That's real too!"

He chuckled. "I am joking. No, that one is not real. Simply a story."

"Oh god, that would be terrible." A thought crossed my mind that perked me up. "Wait- what about Hogwarts? Is that a real story?"

"Yes- and no." He said. "Yes that reality is real, but it is not quite as the story goes. I promise I will tell you about it another time. However, time is of the essence not. I think it best to get started."

"Is there a contract to sign?"

He blinked and in front of him laid a parchment of terms and legal jargon. I grabbed it and started reading but a lot of it was just normal legal speak and I found myself skimming through most of it. It seemed in order so I grabbed in the fountain pen on his desk and after a moment of trying to figure out how to use a fountain pen, signed my name with a big flourish just like Ariel in the Little Mermaid.

Or at least that's who I felt like when signing away my life.

"Good, now that is taken care of, I have taken the liberty of providing appropriate attire for you. It is in the water closet behind you."

It took just a moment to remember water closet was the bathroom. I walked in and closed the door firmly behind me. On a hook on the wall, there was an outfit. A simple pale blue dress with long slits in the skirt, a pair of darker leggings to go under, with some odd underwear that definitely took a little bit to figure how to put on. On the cabinet next to the hook, was a pair of thick socks and a pair of well-worn brown leather boots, and a brown cloak. A piece of leather cord was left which I could only assume was for my hair. No rubber bands in Middle Earth. On the floor, laid a back pack, but not like any I'd seen except for in movies. A quick inspection of it, showed that the contents were an extra change of clothes, more socks, some water skins, and food wrapped in oil skins. Oil skins I only know about because I've read a few period romance books, but glad to know that wasn't entirely brain candy.

Though I doubt that author would ever believe her books were helpful in that way.

I braided my hair back as a finishing touch. I wish I could keep my normal undies because this stuff felt weird. I guess it would be comparable to a guy who only wore briefs suddenly wearing boxers. Not that it was totally like that or totally weird, but it was different. It would take some getting used to. The dress had a built in corset thing, not to the point where my boobs were right under my chin, but just so they didn't move. It was a little harder to put it on with just me, but there was no way in hell I was going to ask Mr. Tolkien out there.

Finally I was done and I left the bathroom, nearly tripping on my skirt on my way out.

"Yes, it is a little big, a little too long. During your change you will grow from your height of 5'4 to a height of 5'8. Elves are naturally taller than men. Are you ready my dear?" He asked.

"Yep. I'm ready." And I was. Kind of.

But that was the last thing I could say to him, because he suddenly exploded into that blasted white light thing again. Everything faded to white and I felt the light push into my body, through my chest. Then it all faded to black as it completely entered my body. Or I lost consciousness. I'm not sure which.

What I am sure about is that when I opened my eyes next I was standing on a moss covered forest floor.

Also, Tolkien was a liar. A big, freaking liar.

It was more than a little pain, more than a bit of discomfort. It was a lot of pain, and a whole lot of discomfort.

In fact, I think I might be dying.

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><p>So? How was that? Like where this is going? Don't like? Think it's not original enough? Let me know!<p>

Oh also, let me know about the chapter lengths! Is it too short?


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, again. Posting another chapter, a short chapter. I've already noticed a few mistakes in the last two chapters, so I'll get that fixed once I figure out how. I hope you all are enjoying this! I've had a couple people "favorite" my story and that completely made my day! So thank you!

I do not own The Hobbit or LOTR, nor am I making any profits from this story.

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><p>The darkness was gone when I opened my eyes next. I found myself on a bright sunny day in the middle of beautiful forest. In the distance, not too far from where I stood, I saw a gate made of twisted vine and wood. Very elegant, I thought. Huh, this wasn't too bad. No more pain than waking up from a good dream.<p>

And of course, with my next breath, the pain started. It flared up in my chest as I inhaled, my breath caught.

"Oh, good lord!" I huffed, clenching my hand to my chest. "Freaking hell!"

I bended over in half, trying to catch my breath and not breathe at the same time, but it all ached just the same.

"What are you doing, Elleth?" A stern voice I didn't hear walk up came from somewhere above me and to my right.

I glanced up. A tall elf stood there in front of me, a face that left no room for negotiations. Do as he said or die. The hand upon the hilt of the very long sword at his hip added to the message.

Yay, my first elf, I thought. And he's going to kill me.

Hell bells, what to say again? Oh, right.

"I'm looking for Lord Elrond. Is-" A flash of icy hot pain arced through my spine and I hissed. "Is he around? Er, available?"

The elf frowned and took a step back from me. Maybe I did look pretty crazy, all hunched over, visibly in pain, yet with no outward reason as to why. I got a good look at him now that he wasn't so close. He had long golden blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Tall, but everyone was tall compared to me. He had nice broad shoulders and a slim waist. He wore a grey uniform, with a leaf clasp holding his cloak on.

He looked over at his shoulder at two more guards and gave theem a hand signal I didn't quite catch. Apparently he told them to get back to their stations because both men ran back into the trees. I guess he figured he could take on one helpless girl by himself. Er, She-elf. Whatever I am.

"Lord Elrond resides in Imladris. You stand before the gates of Lothlórien." He said slowly.

Lothlorien sparked something from memory. This is that awesome forest where the leaves are gold and trees are silver or something. Also, absolutely not where Lord Elrond lived. Celeborn, was that his name? He lived here with Lady Galadriel. Well, maybe they could help?

"Oh." I said, resting my hands on my knees. "That is most inconvenient as I'm in no condition to travel any further." My teeth clenched against my teeth. Ow, this wasn't fun.

The elf looked quite concerned now. His eyebrows rose then furrowed. Or maybe that was disgust? Who knows?

"What ails you? Are you injured?" He grabbed my arm as I started to teeter over, nearly falling into him.

"I'm not sure. No healer could give me an answer." Lies. But maybe he won't know that.

"Why would you come to Lothlorien instead of Rivendell?" He asked, bewildered. I guess that's a great question. I think there's a mountain range separating the two Elven cities, but my Middle Earth geography is a little rusty.

"I think I heard he was here." I nearly sobbed. Oh god! What was going on to my insides? What the hell did he do to me? I was on fire! Burning up from the inside out.

He said rewrite the DNA. It made it seem simple like he was going to take a pen a write each cell out, not burn out the old and sear in the new.

"You are getting worse as we speak. Come in. Perhaps one of the healers here can assist you."

He half dragged me to the gate, but I couldn't concentrate through the pain. He apparently took notice of this fact, and swept me into his arms like a sleepy child.

"I think I can walk!" I objected.

"Not for long it would seem." He grunted. "Put your arms around my neck."

"Yes, sir." He smelled like the woods, all piney and fresh air. Wonderful, really. And his hair was very soft. It tickled my arms.

Stomping feet came up fast to where we were just passing the gate. A horde of horses just arrived and in the middle of the pack, a familiar face amongst the gang of elves.

Lord Elrond, of the last Homely House in the flesh.

"Looks like you had good information after all. " The elf said to me, softly.

I nearly cried in relief of seeing him. Something was going right after all!

Maybe he could help with this pain, give me some version of elven morphine. Something.

"Lord Elrond! Well met, my friend!" My elf called out.

My elf, heh, so funny. I own an elf now. Elves are cool.

Good god, I'm losing it.

Lord Elrond also had a stern face, but I knew that already from the movies. He looked like the actor of course, but different at the same time. The being in front of me was no actor, and this was no movie set. It was all too real. He wore leather armor edged in gold. He had a circlet crown on his head and a frown on his face.

Lord Elrond jumped down from his horse with more grace than I could ever hope to accomplish.

"Well met, Lord Haldir." His frown grew deeper as he looked at me. "What ails the girl?"

I wonder what gave me away, the pain stricken face or the spams that racked my body?

But wait, he said Haldir? Don't I know a Haldir? Didn't he die at Helm's Deep? I probably should save him too. Let's put that on the list.

"She claims she was looking for you, my Lord. She seems in a great deal of pain."

"Yes." I gritted out. "Please help me. He said you would."

"Who said this?" Lord Elrond asked. He turned around without an answer to address his company. "Find accommodations and we will dine together tonight. It seems I will be busy."

He nodded to Haldir. "Show me to the healer's ward."

He asked a couple questions while we walked, but I couldn't tell you what they were about, or if I even answered. It wasn't far it seemed to the healer's ward, maybe 5 minutes to walk. The stairs were a bitch though. Haldir was light on his feet, but still any movement was agony.

By the time we got there, both Haldir and Elrond looked worried.

"How could she be deteriorating so quickly? She seemed only winded when I first saw her not an hour ago!" Haldir asked as we walked into the ward. He quickly set me down on the bed, which I noticed was a feather bed. So nice, but still I couldn't stop the pain. The room was light and airy and had a really nice smell. Lavender I think.

"Yes, I'm aware of this condition. I've seen it before. It is not catching, do not worry. Though I fear…" Lord Elrond trailed off as he noticed me watching him.

"He said I wouldn't die." I whispered, fear shooting down into my stomach.

"It appears you have been deceived, my dear. I am sorry. It is now up to you to come through the other side." He said, matter-of-factly, but not unkindly. I liked him. He gave it to me straight. He continued. "It is good you are under my care now, but this is just the beginning, I'm afraid."

"The beg- beginning?" I gasped out. What else did Tolkien lie about? I signed a damn contract! Now I'm going to die here and not even see Legolas or Aargorn or a freaking Hobbit! He betrayed me. I've been betrayed again. Am I walking around with a sign on my forehead that says, "Hey! I'm a sucker! Betray me!"? Freaking hell.

Lord Elrond dismissed Haldir then, who gave me a pitying look I did not appreciate before he left. He looked like he knew that was the last time he'd ever see me again. So rude. I wasn't dead yet.

"Transcendence." Lord Elrond said over his shoulder. He started washing up and then gathering herbs and other things I didn't recognize into a mortal and pedestal. "That is what is occurring within you. You have been chosen by the Valar to receive their Grace. Is that so?"

"I believe so." I panted out.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "If you make it through the trials, it behoove you to tell no one of this."

I nodded, jerkily. I knew how to not to become a freak show.

He came to the bed and began loosening my boots. After those were off he helped me take off my cloak and dress. I don't know where my pack had gone off to, but it was the least of my worries. When only the leggings and my shirt remained, he tucked me into bed like a child. He even left a cold compress on my forehead.

"Fever is the worst fear. The Grace is etching itself through your body, which releases a great deal of heat. If your body does not accept the Grace, if you reject it, your body will try to expel it from your body. If that happens, you will not survive."

"Oh." was all I could manage. My voice sounded rough. I tried to even out my breath but it hurt so badly. I closed my eyes, rallying. I could do it. I could survive.

Lord Elrond heated water over the fireplace on one side of the room. So odd to have a fireplace in a tree house. Wouldn't it burn everything down? Would it even matter in my case, the girl burning from the inside out?

The whistle blew on the kettle. Elrond picked it up and poured it over a teacup which he had put his herbal remedy in. Apparently, I was going to drink it.

"Here, sip this." I tried to sit up best I could but I couldn't keep still. I ended up drinking most of it, but a little had sloshed over the sides. "Rest, now. Keep your strength."

I tried to rest, but it hurt too much. I'd toss and turn, trying to find the least uncomfortable position but it was no use. If I were in an out of body experience, I'd probably look like I was having a seizure. I was out of my mind. I lost track of time. It felt like hours and seconds at the same time. I was hot, then I was cold, just feverish like I had the flu. I remember someone moaning and I wanted them to shut up, couldn't they see I needed to sleep? But it was just me in the room right then.

Pain. Agony. Hurt. None could properly address the searing sensation as my body changed atom by atom and the Grace of the Valar became one with my being.

I knew I hit a critical point when I felt hands holding down my arms and shoulders and another set holding my head still and holding open my mouth. Lord Elrond was pouring a tonic down my throat in between my screams.

Screams? When did I start screaming? When did I stop?

Next part I remember, I was still. So still. It was quiet. My throat had rubbed so raw no sound would come forth. Maybe I was still screaming, I don't know. My breath was shallow, erratic. My eyes were open, but unseeing.

I sense rather than heard Elrond keeping watch from a few feet away. I felt the bed dip and a soft hand grasped my sweaty one. My breath hitching was the only sign of discomfort I could give, but the agony was ever as real.

"Melathriel. Hear my words and remember your purpose. Come back into the light." It was the most beautiful voice, merely whispers in my mind. Lady Galadriel, my tired mind offered. "Indeed. Remember the light. It will guide you through the darkness."

But all I ever saw was darkness.

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><p>Such pain. So ouch. Very hurt. Wow.<p>

Uh, yeah, so super short chapter. I think I came up with the name Melathriel on my own, but I might have read it somewhere and forgotten about it, so if I'm accidentally plagiarizing, please let me know so I can change it!


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